"Dat vas excellent! Good yob!" Kristanna said to Devon in
that sultry, exotic accent of hers, as the two lovely ladies
were seated across from each other in the front room of the
estate. Meanwhile, I kept both my eyes and ears on them via
the monitor here inside the voyeur room. "Ve vill try
someding a bit different now, Devvy. Are yew ready?"

"Yes," Devon nodded.

"God dag," Kristanna spoke, in Norwegian.

"Morn," Devon returned, using the same language.

"Hvordan g†r det?"

"Bare bra, takk."

Kristanna smiled. "Hva heter du?"

"Jeg heter Devon [Last Name]."

Kristanna raised an eyebrow. "Hvor gammel er du?"

"Jeg er sytten."

Kristanna laughed and patted Devon upon the shoulder.
"Yew are progressing nicely with my language, but yew still
have a lot more to learn, honey." Devon looked at Kristanna
with a quizzical expression until she explained, "Ven I
asked how old yew are, yew said _sytten_. Dat means 17."

Devon giggled and brought a hand to her mouth. "Oh! I
am still struggling with the numbers. Let me think... was
I supposed to say tjuesyv instead?"

"Yew got it!" Kristanna grinned. "_Tjuesyv_ translates
to 27 in da English language. As I have told Jeremy many
times in da past, da English is da INFERIOR language!" She
laughed and continued, "But I guess yew were close by saying
sytten. At least it ended vid a seven. I vill give yew a
brownie point for dat."

"I would prefer a kiss," Devon cooed.

"Yew get dat, too," Kristanna nodded, quickly pressing
her lips to Devon's mouth for a wondrous exchange of tongues.
The pair of ladies kissed one another for a good 30 seconds,
their tongues jousting together between their conjoined
mouths. Just watching them together like this from the
confines of my voyeur room was enough to give me a full-blown
erection. I could watch Devon and Kristanna kiss each other
all day long. It was a truly intoxicating sight for me.

Devon hesitated, but then frowned and looked at Kristanna
with empty eyes. "I have no idea what that means... sorry."

"I asked vat time it is," Kristanna informed her. "To be
precise and specific, I asked _Vat is da time?_. Since it is
11 o'clock in da morning, Devvy, what yew could have said
back to me vas _Klokka er elleve om morgenen_. Dat would be
da same as saying _It is 11 in da morning_."

"I'm having trouble with the placement of words in some
sentences," Devon told her. "Sometimes, words seem like they
belong at the end of a sentence, but actually are at the very
beginning. Then, that same word could be at the end of
another sentence, but really seems as if it belongs at the
beginning. You know what I mean? Some words really seem out
of place in some sentences... if you can understand."

Although I enjoyed eavesdropping on the language lesson
that Kristanna was giving to Devon, something else suddenly
caught my eye here in the voyeur room. In one of the guest
bedrooms, it appeared as if Lindsay and Amy were prepared to
engage in yet _another_ BDSM session. Very interested in
what may transpire between them, I flipped the audio on for
the suite and transferred the video feed to the big monitor
in front of me. This looked most promising...

Lindsay, who was dressed in a little G-string and bra,
with a leather submissive collar (and an accompanying
chain (_leash_)) secured around her throat, squealed as Amy
offered her taut ass a hard swat and then pointed toward the
other side of the room. Instead of waiting for her to
follow orders, Amy simply grabbed the opposite end of the
leash and literally dragged Lindsay across the room.

"Owwwww!" Lindsay cried in discomfort, tugging at the
leather collar around her neck. "That hurts!"

"C'mon sweetie," Amy chirped once they reached the bed.
"Why don't you get down on your knees?" Using the leash,
Amy gave Lindsay a healthy tug downward.

"Ouch!" the 18-year-old whined as she fell to her knees.

"Ohhhhh..." Amy cooed in mock empathy, leaning over and
gazing into her girlfriend's eyes. "Is that hurting you?"

"Yeah..." she struggled out.

"Oh Lindsay... I don't want to hurt you." With that, Amy
yanked on the leash harder than before. Lindsay grunted in
response, naturally, before Amy took a seat on the very edge
of the bed. Dressed in a bra and G-string herself, along
with a pair of high-heels, Amy looked downright fabulous.
She held onto the leash and pulled Lindsay, who was still on
her knees, closer to her. The look in Amy's green eyes was
wicked. "Do you know what you are gonna do for me first?"

"What?" Lindsay panted.

Amy brought a high-heeled foot up and rested it upon the
suitcase laying on the floor beside Lindsay. "Oh... I think
you need to worship my feet."

The erection I received earlier while watching Devon and
Kristanna kiss each other began to pulse within my shorts as
Lindsay immediately complied with Amy's demand by leaning
over and pressing her pink, lush lips to those toes. With
her toes exposed even with the spiked high-heels on, Amy
wiggled them about and smiled with devilish glee.

"Oh, there you go," Amy encouraged her, as Lindsay's lips
slid over and across the glossy red polish of her toenails.
"Aren't my feet beautiful?"

"Yes."

"Uh huh... that's it. Good answer."

"Want me to keep going?"

"Uh huh," Amy nodded. "You can keep doing that."

Lindsay moved her lips from Amy's toes to the top half of
her foot and began both kissing and sucking the flesh there.
Amy, of course, seemed to enjoy this.

"I like how that feels." Suddenly, however, Amy's mood
changed. She gave the metal leash another hard tug and
snapped, "I didn't tell you to start licking it!" Lindsay
squealed in discomfort as Amy scolded her, "You wait for me
to give you orders. Do you understand that?"

"Yeah..." Lindsay murmured, again grabbing at her collar.
It must have really been irritating around her neck. I am
certain that Amy had it on her all snug and tight.

"Take my shoe off," Amy demanded, extending her left leg.

Lindsay placed both hands upon the black high-heel, but
seemed to struggle with trying to get it off for the next
five seconds. Needless to say, Amy grew very impatient.

"Can't you do anything right?"

Lindsay, who still had not gotten the shoe off, spoke back
in a timid tone, "Your feet are sweaty."

"What? WHAT?" Amy pulled rather harshly on the leash and
brought Lindsay's head just inches from her body. She placed
a hand upon Lindsay's chin and demanded, "What did you say?"

"I said your feet are sweaty."

"Oh, I don't think that is the correct attitude for you,"
Amy sniped, rising to her feet. She pulled Lindsay's chin
upward, arching her neck in the process, and looked at her
right in the eyes. "You know what? You need to watch your
mouth." Amy grabbed a healthy handful of Lindsay's blonde
hair and yanked her head to the side. "You little slut! Do
you know what you do with your mouth? You do what I tell you
to do with it. You don't SASS back to me. You understand?"

Amy pushed Lindsay's head back and sat down. "Okay, slut.
Now take my shoe off."

This time, Lindsay had no problems at all as she unbuckled
Amy's high-heeled shoe and tossed it elsewhere. She cupped
the foot with both hands and began worshiping it again.

"Yeah... start kissing it," Amy grinned. Lindsay went
from toe to toe until Amy said, "Start sucking now, too.
Hmmmmm... that feels good." Suddenly, four of Amy's five
toes were jammed inside Lindsay's mouth. Amy tried to push
her foot in even deeper, which caused Lindsay to momentarily
gag. "Oh... are you choking?" Amy exclaimed. "You choking?"
Amy pulled her left foot from Lindsay's mouth and leaned down
and looked at her menacingly. "Were you choking?"

"Yes..."

"Oh, too bad." Amy took a seat upon the bed and thrusted
her foot right back into Lindsay's mouth. "Put my toes in
your mouth," she directed her. "You're missing a toe... get
all of them in there." Lindsay seemed to gag again, but
began sucking and licking Amy's foot once all five of her
slender, pretty toes were deeply embedded within her mouth.

"There you go," Amy smiled. "You are so lucky to be able
to do that. You're so lucky to be able to kiss me on my
beautiful feet. You know that?"

Suddenly, Amy screamed in pain.

"HEY!" She pulled her foot out of Lindsay's mouth and
violently yanked on the leash. "YOU POPPY SLUT! Did you
bite my toes? You... you bit my toes?"

"Yes," Lindsay answered, short of breath.

"You did it on purpose?"

"Yes."

"You dumb, little whore!" Amy exclaimed, tackling Lindsay
to the floor and pinning her shoulders there. "What are you
thinking? WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?" Amy placed a hand to
Lindsay's throat and warned her in a serious tone of voice,
"I'm gonna teach you a good lesson!"

* * *

Moments later, I had my cock out and was busy stroking it
in the open air with my right hand. Definitely, no one could
deny the fact that I had ample cause to do just this.

"Owwwww!" Lindsay pined, leaning over the edge of the bed,
as a leather strap came crashing down upon her upturned ass.

Amy, who was wielding the strap with her right hand, had
quite the devious look upon her face as she offered Lindsay's
tight, little ass another hard swat. "Does that hurt?"

"Uh huh," Lindsay answered, her eyes clenched.

"I need to teach you and your sassy mouth how to talk to
me, and how to behave," Amy told her. "You need to learn
your lesson. I won't stop whipping you until you do."

Lindsay glanced back at Amy with a half-smile upon her
face. "Give me what you got."

"I will," Amy promised, as she peppered Lindsay's ass with
a series of swift, unrelenting blows. "Oh, those hurt you...
didn't they? They hurt?" Grunting, Lindsay nodded her head
in return. "Oh, you poor thing." Amy belted her ass again.
"Is your ass stinging? Is it stinging?"

"Good, I'll do it some more." Amy did just that, giving
that sweet ass her own special brand of discipline, but soon
grabbed Lindsay's leash and violently pulled her from the
bed. "I got something even better in mind now," Amy said,
taking a seat upon the edge of the bed and facing Lindsay.
She slipped out of her sexy, black G-string and insisted,
"Get down on your knees and lick my pussy."

Amy placed both hands behind her upon the bed and used
them for support as she reclined back and spread her lush,
creamy thighs. Lindsay needed no further coaxing as she
knelt downward and moved her mouth in close for a taste.
Lindsay began to feast away upon Amy's pussy, which brought
a great deal of pleasure to the feisty red-head.

"You like that?" Amy asked, now reaching forward with her
right hand and grasping the back of Lindsay's head. She
jammed Lindsay's face in even tighter against her pussy and
snapped, "Come on, do it better. Use your tongue more!"
Amy placed both hands upon either side of Lindsay's face
and pushed it away from the silken joining of her thighs.
"Do you know how lucky you are to be able to lick my pussy?"

"Uh huh," Lindsay nodded, her tongue swirling.

"Look at you lick my pussy," Amy grinned, using her right
hand to yank and pull on Lindsay's hair. "You lick pussy
like a hungry, little whore. You ARE a little whore." Amy
began to vibrate about with obvious pleasure. "Hmmmmm...
you nasty blonde slut. HMMMMM... yeah!" Once Lindsay tore
her face away from Amy's thighs and gasped several times in a
row, the 30-year-old shot a hard, piercing gaze down at her.
"Ohhhhh you poor thing... are you out of breath?"

"Uh huh," Lindsay stammered.

"I don't care," Amy hissed, now using both hands as she
jammed Lindsay's face upon her intoxicating muff. "You will
keep licking my pussy until _I_ tell you to stop." Lindsay
made a series of hot, throaty growls as she did her best to
satisfy Amy. But once the vixen made eye contact with her,
Amy had a new idea in mind. "Take my bra off, Slutsay."

Lindsay reached up with both hands and literally ripped
Amy's silky, black bra from her chest. Now, Amy did not
have any complaints as Lindsay took the initiative by
attaching her lips to one of those plump, juicy nipples.
She eagerly sucked and slurped away on it, which caused Amy
to tilt her head back and sigh in utter pleasure. A lot of
heavy breathing was coming from both ladies right now, too.

"Yeah, get my nipple hard," Amy instructed her, before
yanking Lindsay's head toward her opposite breast. "Now
the other one. Get that nipple hard, too." Lindsay did
what she was instructed to do, but soon Amy positioned her
face between her thighs once more. "Lick my pussy again."

Again, Lindsay was very eager to dive right into the
delights of Amy's pussy. She extended her tongue and gave
it a blistering series of long, quick swipes, which brought
even more satisfaction to the domineering red-head. Soon,
Lindsay added a finger to the mix and began to forcefully
jam it in-and-out of Amy's pussy at a blinding rate of speed.
Then, her tongue began to concentrate upon Amy's little nub
of a clitoris. Still stroking, I was about to go out of my
mind with voyeuristic passion. This was too much...

"Don't that taste good?" Amy asked, as Lindsay was now
stabbing her tongue in-and-out of those moist, swollen lips.
"You better fuck me harder with that finger!" Amy demanded.
"Come on... fuck me harder with that finger! YEAH! Fuck my
pussy. Fuck it harder!" Amy moaned out in pure desire and
cooed, "Oh... I have taught you well. I think you will be
in for a BIG surprise today. A VERY big surprise! I know
that you enjoy it, but you need to know your place."

"I could lick your pussy all day long!" Lindsay squealed,
her extended tongue a blur as it wielded its magic.

"Each time you lick my pussy, you do it better than the
last time!" Amy offered the leash another healthy tug and
clamored, "You rancid whore. Have you been licking pussy
again? A pussy other than mine?"

"Ca-Camille," Lindsay moaned.

"What have you been doing with Camille?"

"I had sex with her two nights ago on the boat ride from
Lima," Lindsay managed to say, again appearing uncomfortable
because Amy was pulling on the leash. "She woke up and went
for a walk on the boat past midnight. I was playing video
games but when I saw her, I knew that I wanted to have sex
with her. She wanted to have sex with m-me, too. Camille
did me so good... and hard. I loved it..."

"Whore! Bitch! Slut!" Amy seemed to explode in a rage
of sexual anger as she grabbed Lindsay by the face and gave
her a nasty shove. Lindsay nearly toppled over onto her
side, but looked up at Amy with an expectant leer in her blue
eyes. Obviously, Lindsay enjoyed this rough treatment...

"Who else have you been FUCKING around with?"

"I want to be with Jeremy again," Lindsay said, which sent
a definite shiver down my spine. "It's been a week or so
since I was last with him... that is much too long."

"You want his cock in your mouth, don't you?

"Yes."

"Little cocksucking slut!" Amy exclaimed, before a hint
of disdain flashed across her otherwise lovely face. "You
belong to me, now. If you want to suck his cock, maybe it
is time that you start getting PERMISSION from me first. Do
you understand that, Slutsay?"

"I'll suck Jeremy's cock if I want to," she responded,
again being defiant.

"Is that so?" Amy snapped, staying in her Dominatrix mode.
"You little, sassy slut. All you want to do is talk back to
me, but you're going to regret it in the end. Yes, you will
regret it." The sweet and precocious 18-year-old, for some
odd reason, seemed upset with Amy, who nonetheless had another
order in mind for her. "Do something constructive with that
sassy mouth of yours for a change." Amy stood up and turned
around, then reached back with both hands and smashed
Lindsay's face between her asscheeks.

"Lick it."

"Lick it?" Lindsay asked, a squeamish look upon her face.

"DO IT!"

An instant later - as if on impluse - Lindsay was slurping
away at Amy's tight, puckered anus with her soft, velvety
tongue. Amy leaned all the way over at the waist and jutted
her shapely ass in Lindsay's face to give her a better angle.
At the same time, Lindsay re-inserted her finger into Amy's
pussy and began thrusting away in quite the feverish manner.

When Amy clutched her own breasts with both hands and
arched her back, I could tell that she was extremely close
to having an orgasm. Obviously, Lindsay sensed this as well.
Her probing tongue was joined by a trio of fingers. She was
going to finish Amy off by thrusting them into her ass.

Amy thrusted her ass even harder upon Lindsay's face as
the orgasmic juices simply flowed from deep within her hot,
swollen pussy as she cried and screeched out in her release.
Lindsay lapped all of it up, eagerly sucking and swallowing
down that sweet, scrumptious nectar.

Amy turned around and eyed Lindsay, who, of course, was
still in full submissive mode - on her knees with both hands
clasped together behind her back. "Do you like it when
Jeremy takes that big cock of his and fucks you with it?"

Lindsay simply nodded in response.

"I got what you need, then," Amy said, reaching back with
her left hand and pulling a gigantic strap-on dildo out from
underneath one of the pillows. Lindsay's pretty eyes seemed
to flash with pure arousal as Amy dangled the crude object
in front of her. "This is what you need! Get on the bed,
and get on your back! That's where a slut like you belongs!"

Again - like a good submissive - Lindsay did what she was
told. She promptly climbed up and onto the bed, then rolled
over onto her back. After disposing of her own G-string, the
nubile, young blonde spread her legs wide in anticipation.
Amy, meanwhile, stood up and secured the massive dong around
her waist by buckling its straps into place. When she was
ready, Amy stepped forward and nudged the dildo's big, black
head upon the entrance to Lindsay's pretty, little pussy.

"This is what you need," Amy said, as she then inserted
the nasty object between Lindsay's waiting, willing folds.
"I don't really care if you like this or not, Slutsay. The
only thing that matters is what _I_ like. And... let me
tell you, I LOVE to corrupt sassy, little BRATS like you."

Lindsay began to wail and moan out her own hot passion
as Amy soon mounted her in the missionary position. Then,
in a torrid flash, Amy's hips were thrusting away like mad,
humping and pumping Lindsay's pussy with excessive force.

"Jeremy hasn't had his cock in your pussy in a week?" Amy
growled. "Am I right, SLUT?"

"Yes..." Lindsay moaned, her voice strained.

"YES MISTRESS!" Amy corrected her, screaming.

"Yes, Mistress..."

"Oh, so it's been awhile since you had a cock inside of
you." Amy began pounding her even harder than before with
the huge strap-on dildo. She soon caught a rythym and teased
her, "You're not used to taking a cock this big, are you? 15
inches! Is your little pussy full? Is it stuffed?"

"Uh huh..."

"You better get used to that big, black cock!" Amy said
to Lindsay, her voice loud and wildly intense. Still going
at her full-throttle with the black dildo, Amy told Lindsay,
"When we get back home to Ohio, I am going to GIVE you to all
FIVE of my black boyfriends! OH... they will LOVE to have a
'lil, 18-year-old blonde girl as their new, personal slave!"

Lindsay did not offer any sort of response to that bit of
information. She simply continued to cry and scream out her
wild arousal as Amy pulverized her pussy with the strap-on.

"You will have so many black cocks inside your body at
once that if they were sticking out, you would look like a
porcupine!" Amy added, the expression upon her face becoming
more sinister by the second - if that was even possible.
"All five of those guys will fuck you at once over and over
again! I am sure they will invite more friends to use you,
too!" Amy reached down and slapped one of Lindsay's pert,
bra-clad breasts with an open hand. "Oh... I am going to
see to it that you are well-fucked for the rest of your
life!" Amy slapped Lindsay's other breast and promised, "I
will introduce you to a life in Cincinnati that you never
even knew existed! Oh... you will make a fine slave! Going
to make some money off of you, too..."

Amy placed both hands upon Lindsay's waist and really
started to brutalize her in the missionary position. Her
hips were a wild blur as she hammered away at Lindsay with
all of the furor that her slender frame could produce. At
the same time, Amy's luscious, 36d-sized breasts flopped and
bounced about with every wild thrust she made. Amy was
hammering Lindsay so hard, in fact, that I seriously feared
that the young woman may get injured somehow in the melee.
Could Amy rip that sweet, tender pussy right in half?

"OH FUCK YES!" Lindsay erupted all at once, using the
type of language that certainly did not seem to befit a
future church minister. "OH FUCK! FUCK ME WITH IT! HMMMMM
YEAH! YESSSSS! FUCK ME WITH THAT BIG THING! OH FUCK THAT
FEELS SO GOOD! OH FUCK... I AM ABOUT TO CUM! FUUUUUCK!"

Amy continued pounding away as she used both hands to
viciously cup and squeeze Lindsay's breasts through the bra
that she still had on. Once Amy started slapping those
breasts again, it really seemed to set Lindsay off.

Lindsay reached up with both hands and latched onto Amy's
shoulders, then screamed out at the very top of her lungs as
a fierce, violent orgasm overtook her body all at once. The
fever pitch here was so incredibly high that it seemed as if
Lindsay's body and soul was going to just ignite at any given
second. Fortunately, that did not happen. Instead, once the
orgasmic wave had passed and gone, Lindsay collapsed to the
mattress beneath her in an exhausted, well-used heap.

A little disturbed to say the least, I flipped the live
video feed and its accompanying sound off. I needed to get
out of the voyeur room for awhile and collect my senses...

* * *

The western side of the island included a crescent-shaped
beach of white sands that led to azure waters all framed by
graceful palm trees. Its long curve of sand was protected by
a barrier reef, which made the water ideal for swimming and
snorkeling. The setting was very beautiful, indeed, and it
should be noted that this particular beach was one of my
favorite locations of all on the whole island.

Seated around a warm, soothing fire on the west beach as
twilight approached on this Thursday evening, all seven of
the ladies and I were finishing up a grill-out dinner which
consisted of skinless bratwursts and mettwursts, regular hot
dogs, boneless rib eye steaks and sockeye salmon fillets.

The sky was a brilliant, tropical shade of orange, with
thin clouds scattered here and there, as the sun slowly but
surely made its nightly descent into the horizon. The sound
of the waves gently lapping the shoreline was so tranquil and
relaxing that one could easily fall asleep here.

Everyone was laughing and having a good time as we sunk
our teeth into the scrumptious meal. Everyone, that is,
with the exception of Trish. It was obvious that Trish was
still feeling the after-effects of Lindsay having dumped her
yesterday. Trish was deflated, depressed and very subdued,
and did not say much of anything while everyone else chatted
up a storm. Trish was also well aware of all of the time her
beloved Lindsay had spent with Amy as of late. She knew
of the nasty things they had recently done together, too.

It seemed criminal to me that a woman who was not only as
beautiful as Trish, but also so sweet and kind-hearted, was
feeling this cold and lonely right now. A women this sultry
and desirable was simply not supposed to be feeling this way.
Alas, Trish was, and for the first time since the ladies had
arrived on the island, I felt powerless to do anything about
it. I had so much empathy and sorrow for her.

Was there really anything that I could do? Certainly, I
could not go up to Lindsay demand that she stop spending so
much time with Amy, and focus all of attention upon Trish.
Lindsay and Amy came from the same general area (Cincinnati)
and had a few things in common - most notably their love
for harsh, physical sex. If it was something the two ladies
agreed upon and continued to want to experiment with - which
was clearly the case - who was I to intervene?

Everyone on the island was well aware of the fact that
Trish was in love with Lindsay, and wanted to devote her
entire life to her. Trish was at the point in her life - at
the age of 30 - where she wanted to settle down and enter
into a life-long relationship and commitment. Unfortunately,
the same could not be said for Lindsay. She simply wanted
to dabble and enjoy her sex to the fullest, without any
real emotional attachment involved. Thus, enter Amy - who
seemed perfect to give Lindsay what she wanted. Amy was a
self-admitted nymphomaniac whose passion knew no boundaries.
In that sense, at least, Amy was an ideal match for Lindsay.

Lindsay had opted to give Trish the cold shoulder during
our grill-out dinner at the beach. Lindsay did not even
offer Trish a single look during the entire two hour picnic.
That was very disheartening to me.

Thus, Trish was continually subjected to the sight of the
love of her life - Lindsay - laughing and hamming it up with
Amy. I have been in that position before - as many people
have - and I can attest that it is not a very good feeling.
It must have tore Trish apart inside to witness Lindsay be
so happy and jovial with Amy, as well as the rest of us at
the beach, while at the same time, completely and totally
shutting her out. Several times, it appeared as if Trish
was so hurt by this treatment that she was going to cry.

At one point, Kristanna grabbed Trish by the hand and
guided her toward a secluded corner of the beach. They were
much too far away for me to listen in on their discussion,
but I could tell by their body language and facial reactions
that Kristanna was doing her best to cheer Trish up. I felt
like getting up and walking over to them and joining the
conversation, but held back and stayed put. Kristanna was
more than capable enough of giving Trish a good pep talk.

Still, I wanted to join them and offer whatever I could.
It seemed as if Trish could use a friendly, reassuring hug
in the worst way possible. Eventually, she got one from
Kristanna. I was very happy for that.

It was pitch-dark outside when the collection of women
finally decided that it was time to go back to the mansion,
and retire for the evening. All of the ladies, with the
exception of Kristanna, made the return walk to the estate
as a group. I frowned as Pamela placed an arm around Trish,
who simply let out an agitated sigh in response. Trish was
feeling miserable, as Lindsay laughed and squealed while
riding Amy piggy-back. It was obvious that Trish wanted to
give Lindsay that ride - among many other things.

Kristanna decided to stay with me as I gathered the paper
plates and plastic utensils everyone had used during our
dinner meal, and placed them into a trash bag.

"Vat a beautiful sight," Kristanna remarked, motioning
toward the rippling ocean, which was drenched in moonlight.
The white tips of the moonlight upon the water was quite a
majestic sight, indeed. "I could stay out here all night."

"That can be arranged, sweetheart," I told her, smiling.
"We could put up a tent and sleep out here tonight if you
want. We don't even need a tent, if you'd prefer. I could
grab some sleeping bags from the storage shed."

"Ve only need one sleeping bag, Jeremy," she corrected me,
her voice laced with a mixture of eroticism and playfulness.
Kristanna then took a very deep breath and sighed, her mood
quite somber that quickly. "Ve need to talk about little
Lindsay and her newfound adventures, Jeremy."

"Okay..." Suffice it to say, but I was caught a little
off-guard with those words and the tone of her voice. It was
not very often when Kristanna turned all deadpan and serious.

The 23-year-old moved around to the front of me and looked
at me square in the eyes. "I have changed my dought process
on vat has been going on as of late betveen Lindsay and Amy."

"Oh? How so?"

Kristanna sighed again. "Yew and I agreed very early in
da year dat ve vould not get involved vid anyding da girls
did as long as it vas 100 percent consensual and, of course,
it did not break any laws. But I have changed my opinion."

"In what way?"

"I vatched vat Amy did to Lindsay earlier today in da
voyeur room," she informed me. "I know dat yew vatched it
too, Jeremy. Myself, I have been known to dabble and play
in bondage in da past, vid a few old girlfriends. Alvays
da top, I have some experience in it. Not a lot, but some.
But vat I saw today vas quite... disturbing."

I nodded at her. "I cannot argue with that."

"Yew need to step in and stop Amy," Kristanna said to me.
"I do not care about da rules or vat we agreed upon back in
Yanuary. Dis is yewr island, Jeremy - yewr home - and vat
yew say goes. Yew need to protect Lindsay. I do not care if
she is in agreement vid everyding dat Amy does to her or not.
Yew need to step in and put an end to dis right now."

"Put an end to it?"

"Amy does not care about Lindsay," Kristanna insisted.
"She does not care about her one bit."

"I disagree," I countered. "I think she does care."

"No," Kristanna said, holding steadfast. "Amy is doing
nudding good for Lindsay. All she is doing is trying to
corrupt her. Lindsay may not realize it but in da long run
all of dis is going to affect her, and ultimately hurt her.
Yew need to step in, Jeremy, and protect Lindsay. Even if
it means protecting her from herself."

"Early in da veek, Lindsay sits down vid yew and tells yew
of her goals and aspirations in life. She is da daughter of
a minister and vants to follow in his footsteps and become a
minister herself. She shows yew a scrapbook of pictures of
her and her entire family. Vat do yew dink her momma vould
dink if she knew vat Lindsay vas involved in right now on da
island? Vat do yew dink her papa is dinking as he looks
down from Heaven? He is cringing at vat Amy has done to
Lindsay dis veek, and all da dings she vill do in future.
Yew need to put an end to dis, Jeremy."

"Yew need to step in and protect Lindsay," Kristanna
forged on. "Dis is not voo she is. I dink da island has
affected her in many different vays. Some good, some bad.
Yew do not go from 18-year-old virgin to a full-fledged
submissive voo begs and craves pain in such a short period
of time. It is not logical at all."

Now exasperated, I held both hands out and shrugged my
shoulders at her. "How am I supposed to protect Lindsay?"

"Da poor girl is confused beyond any and all reason. Yew
see dat, right Jeremy? Being on da island has changed her
in so many different vays. Her body is like a lightning rod.
It has responded to all da dings dat have been done her over
da past two-and-a-half veeks. It has responded to vat Amy
has done... vat yew have done, Jeremy, vat I have done. It
has responded to vat EVERYONE has done to her. It is all
probably mind-numbing to her and very confusing."

"But it is not voo Lindsay really is," Kristanna added.
"Nor is it voo she ultimately vants to become. Yew cannot
let Lindsay veer from dat route. Yew need to get her back
on track. Yew need to protect her."

"How?" I asked again.

"By putting an end to all da kinky dings dat she and Amy
do togedder," Kristanna said. "I do not know how, but yew
need to stop it, Jeremy. Yew need to stop dem. Yew need to
sit down vid Lindsay and explain to her dat dis route in life
is not good for her. Amy does not care about her. All of
dis is for Amy's evil, wicked pleasure; it is doing nudding
to promote or furder Lindsay as a person."

"All dat vill happen is dat Lindsay vill find herself in a
situation ten years from now, and she vill regret how it all
started. Instead of being a leader in da church and da
community, Lindsay vill find herself in bondage and chains,
vid no way out. A shame to her family. Definitely a shame
to her papa. And a shame to herself." Kristanna paused and
added, "And she vill dink back to how it all started - on
YEWR island, Jeremy, vid YEW and Amy, and da rest of us. I
do not vant to see a girl vid such good intentions in life -
wanting to help udders and be a community leader - fall by
da vayside so Amy can get her rocks and yollies off."

"Do yew vant Lindsay to slip into da abyss like Pamela did
ven she began stripping 11 years ago? Pamela regrets dat
decision every day. Not a day goes by vare she does not
regret it. Da route she take in life back den changed her
so much. And until now, Pamela has had no vay out. Yew
are Pamela's only hope for salvation, Jeremy. Yew are her
only vay out. In many vays, yew are Lindsay's only hope,
too. Yew are only one among us dat she vill listen to."

"Lindsay and Amy act quite normal when they are around
each other for the most part," I offered, finally getting
the opportunity to speak. "Did you see them earlier at the
grill-out dinner, Krissy? They were laughing and talking
with the others; having a good time and blending in nicely.
Just like two normal people. It is just when you put them
behind closed doors the past couple of days, things change.
How can you say it will be this way long-term?"

"Dis is how it starts," Kristanna suggested. "Amy has a
grand plan; a scheme, for Lindsay. Yew hear her earlier in
da voyeur room? Amy says she going to give Lindsay to her
boyfriends back in Ohio once dey return home. She going to
SELL her. Do yew vant dat to happen, Jeremy? Dat is vat
Amy vill do. Amy vill hand Lindsay over to her group of
dominant boyfriends in order to make dem happy because in all
honesty, Amy is a submissive herself. Dose boyfriends vill
not treat Lindsay like a submissive behind closed doors. Dey
vill treat her dat vay 24 hours a day, seven days a veek.
Dey vill not care. And ten years from now, Lindsay vill be
yust like Amy is right now. She vill be completely lost in
life and have no self-esteem." Kristanna took a deep breath
and concluded, "Most of all, Lindsay vill vonder vare her
life vent and she vill be incredibly lonely - yust like Amy."

"Do yew vant to be responsible for dat?" Kristanna asked.
"I go back to vat I told yew earlier. Yew brought all of da
girls here, Jeremy - me included. Yew may vant to keep yewr
distance from us ven it comes to certain dings, but ulimately
yew are responsible for us. And ven it comes time, yew have
to PROTECT us. Yew have to protect Lindsay from Amy. Yew
have to protect Lindsay from herself, even. Do not let dis
happen to her. Please, for da love of God... talk to her."

"Okay," I finally relented, nodding my head for emphasis.
"I will talk to her." I was lost in thought for a moment,
but then volunteered, "I agree with what you said, too. Amy
saying she was going to give Lindsay to her collection of
boyfriends back in Cincinnati - that was wrong."

"It vas awful!" Kristanna gasped.

"I am not quite sure how I will approach the discussion,
but I will talk to her in the next day or two," I promised.

* * *

Since Louisa, the elderly housekeeper here on the island,
was feeling ill yet again the following morning, I decided
to give her the day off. I wanted her to rest up and feel
better. Thus, Devon was gracious enough to volunteer to help
me in preparing everyone pancakes and biscuits for breakfast.
Kristanna was going to assist us as well, until she suggested
that we have _kebab_ - whatever that was - for breakfast.
That was a definite sign of trouble.

Devon and I quickly agreed that we simply could not allow
Kristanna to run wild in the kitchen, so we told her that we
would take care of breakfast ourselves. Because of her very
unique and exotic appetite (fish pudding, anyone?), I was
certain that Pamela, Trish, Lindsay, Amy and Camille would
scoff at the mere idea of Kristanna's Norwegian recipe for
breakfast. Since Kristanna had never met a fish that she did
not like, it would not have surprised me if her idea of a
hearty breakfast was a salmon/egg/hash brown combo sandwich.

As Devon and yours truly finished up the first batch of
pancakes on this breezy Friday morning, Kristanna grabbed a
butter knife and raised it to my head. Smiling (and being
her crazy self), Kristanna then made fake slasher motions
toward me with the knife and let out a little scream. Devon
looked on and giggled, shaking her head.

"Will you take this up to Louisa's room?" was my request
for Kristanna, as I presented her with a plate of pancakes
and biscuits. I snatched the butter knife from Kristanna,
then smiled at her in mock disgust. "Louisa will also want
some maple syrup. Take her some milk, too."

Kristanna offered me a military salute. "Yes sir!"

"Give Louisa a kiss, and tell her that I hope she feels
better," Devon grinned.

"Give Louisa a kiss?" Kristanna countered. "Discounting
da fact dat Louisa is a very old woman - 76 years of age -
if I kiss her, I might catch whatever cold or flu she has!"

"Exactly!" Devon squealed, nodding. "Give her a kiss!"

Kristanna held up a playful fist and waved it about in
front of Devon's face. "Yew gonna get it, girl," she warned,
before giggling and strolling off with the breakfast plate,
maple syrup and a glass of milk.

Now shaking my head at her with a grin, I kept an eye on
Kristanna until she disappeared around the corner. That
woman was so incredibly jovial and outgoing. She was a
bright ray of eternal sunshine, no matter the situation.

As I then prepared to fire up the next batch of pancakes,
Devon wrapped her arms around my neck and leaned upward,
kissing me flush on the lips. "Hi Jeremy."

"Hi Devon," I grinned, unprepared for her aggression.

Her arms still secured around my neck, Devon volunteered a
charming smile of her own. "Trish belongs to me today. Is
it okay if we take your _Jeep_?" My eyes went wide at those
words as Devon explained, "I was thinking of having a picnic
with her in the woods, then going to the west beach."

"Take my _Jeep_?" I asked, feigning concern. "You know,
dear, that NO ONE touches my _Jeep_ except for ME." I
laughed at my own serious tone and then added, "Sure, you and
Trish can use the _Jeep_. Just take good care of it."

"I know how much you love that old _Wrangler_ of yours,"
Devon nodded. "Don't worry. It's in good hands with me."

"Actually, I was thinking of asking Trish if she would
like to go scuba diving with me again today," I remembered.
"Trish had such a great time with me when I took her diving
the first time about a week-and-a-half ago. I was also going
to ask Pamela and Kristanna if they wanted to tag along, too.
Pamela has made mention to me that although she has never
been diving in the past, she would love to give it a try.
The four of us could have a lot of fun together."

Devon nodded her head in approval. "Awesome! I know that
Krissy really loves to go diving with you. She was telling
me how much she loves it just a couple of nights ago. I can
have my picnic with Trish some other time."

"Good," I smiled. "I already know that Kristanna will not
turn me down. Neither will Trish. Both are them are very
experienced divers who love the ocean and what it has to
offer. Pamela has been chomping at the bit to go diving.
Hopefully, all of this will take Lindsay off of Trish's mind
for a little while and make her feel a lot better."

"Hopefully," Devon agreed. "That is why I wanted to take
her on the picnic in your _Jeep_. Trish is my friend. I
know that Lindsay shooting her down really hurt her. Trish
will definitely be happy when you offer to take her diving.
She still goes on and on about her first dive with you, too."

"I just want to cheer her up," were my words. "Trish was
so sad and depressed yesterday - like her light had gone out.
She even refused to watch the hockey replay with me again."

"Trish is obsessed with hockey," Devon noted. "If Trish
is turning down the opportunity to watch the championship
series for hockey, you know the poor thing is feeling bad.
She wears that big hockey jersey of hers almost every single
night." Devon pouted and sighed. "I just don't think that
Amy is the right alternative for Lindsay."

"I'm not sure anyone but Lindsay and Amy think that way."

"Camille does," Devon corrected me. "Camille says she is
going to get involved in their play too... going to enact
some sexual revenge on Lindsay for denying her for so long."

I closed my eyes in exasperation and growled inwardly at
the prospects. I _did not_ need to hear that. Nor did I
want to. Kristanna was right. I had to put an end to this
situation quickly. Amy and Camille would ruin Lindsay.

Moments later, Kristanna strolled back into the kitchen.

"Ah-chooooo..." she chirped, grinning, tilting her head
from side-to-side. "Ah-chooooo. Louisa gave me the flu." I
shook my own head and chuckled at her (highly) exaggerated
sneezing fit. "Ah-chooooo..."

"How is Louisa?" Devon asked. "Seriously?"

Kristanna frowned and answered, "Not good. It not be a
good sign ven it be 80 degrees out and yew are in bed vid
tree heavy blankets vrapped around yew... and still cold.
Especially at her age."

I winced at those words. "Do you think I should take her
to the doctor in Peru? It could be something serious."

"Vait a vile," Kristanna suggested. "At least a day. If
she is not feeling better tomorrow, take her den. I know dat
Louisa is older and all, but even she herself insists that
she does not vant to go to da doctor. She has been badly
flu-ridden several times in da past here, Jeremy. But she
has always gotten over it on her own, ya."

"Very well, then," I conceded. "But if Louisa is not
feeling better tomorrow, I am taking her to the hospital in
Lima. Or, at the very least, I will bring a doctor here.
In fact, I may do that later this afternoon if she does not
show any improvement. I want her well. There is no need to
take any chances... especially, as you say, at her age."

* * *

After breakfast reached its conclusion and the girls
started to drift off to embark on their day's activities, I
conferred with Kristanna, and we then asked Pamela and Trish
if they would like to go scuba diving with us. The answer
from both ladies was a bold and resounding _yes_, of course,
so I sent Pamela off with Trish and Kristanna to get ready
and change into the necessary gear. Once I finished the
morning dishes, I promised the trio, I would meet up with
them at the dock and our aquatic adventure would begin.

Ever since I took Trish diving early last week, Pamela
had been literally begging me to take her underwater as well,
saying it was something she had always wanted to do but, up
until now, had never been presented with the opportunity. I
was more than happy to grant her request, although there were
a few concerns from my end in doing so.

I had to remind Pamela that she was a beginner. I was in
no way a dive instructor nor would I ever pretend to be one.
Thus, I would only allow Pamela to travel no deeper than 30
feet underneath the surface of the water. Trish then made
mention of the sunken ship no more than 10 minutes off the
coast of the island that she and I had explored last week.
From the information I had gathered, the ship was reported
missing in 1944 and not discovered until 1976. I first came
across it seven years ago on a routine dive with my brother.

Of course, a curious Pamela immediately claimed that she
wanted to investigate that sunken ship. I told her that it
was 124 feet deep, which was too far for a novice diver. I
then explained to Pamela that Trish was a certified diver
with lots of experience and know-how. It had not been an
issue or a concern for me to take her that deep into the
water last week. The same could be said for Kristanna as
well. Kristanna had even more diving experience than I did.

Pamela was not angry, but she was definitely disappointed
when I refused to take her to that ship. She simply did not
understand why I would not allow her to go any further than
30 feet deep. Finally, I was able to explain to her that it
was for her own safety. I wanted to minimize the risk of
Pamela contracting any of the illnesses that were common with
novice divers (such as decompression sickness (_the bends_)).
There were plenty of other risk factors to concern myself
with pertaining to her as well. Fortunately, Pamela relented
and was glad that I agreed to take her underwater at all.

The three of us offered Pamela a crash course in scuba
diving while helping her get ready for the big plunge. I was
content to allow Trish and Kristanna to explore and roam on
their own within the depths as long as they stayed together.
I knew that I would have to keep a close and watchful eye on
Pamela, though, for her safety and well-being.

* * *

With a short jump from the big boat, I splashed down and
joined Pamela, Trish and Kristanna in the water. After some
routine adjustments, a few hand and body signals, and the
hiss of air being released from our respective oxygen tanks,
the four of us slipped beneath the surface of the water.

It is virtually impossible to express in words the three
dimensional freedom one receives from diving. Unfettered by
gravity, it is the closest thing to unaided flight that any
human being could ever possibly experience.

It is always something special when I first slide beneath
the waves during each new dive. There is a tranquility and
serenity that overwhelms the senses and drives all thoughts
away, leaving only the moment and awareness of each breath.
Sounds of the world are muted and motion is reduced to the
pace of thick molasses. More often than not, that initial
descent is the favorite part for me. It is truly a moment
of magical doors being opened and genies being unleashed.
There is nothing that can even remotely compare to it.

The sandy bottom started shallow but quickly plummeted
more than 3,000 feet into a submarine canyon that was very
reminiscent of Monterey Bay. This canyon attracted big,
open-water pelagics such as tuna, dorados, mantas and green
sea turtles. Today, however, I was most interested in the
schools of fish surrounding us. Sturgeonfish, yellowtail
snapper, Mexican goatfish and mullets loitered in the chasm
and were easily approached for portraits. We also came into
close contact with a variety of brown and yellow seahorses,
purple frogfish and several varieties of vivid nudibranchs.

The haunting sounds of singing humpbacks, plying their
Pacific tunes, were loud and clear throughout the dive. In
the past, I have watched a few of these massive leviathans
venture into the aforementioned canyon.

Because of her inexperience when it came to scuba diving,
I made Pamela promise me before we entered the water that she
would try to keep a tight grip on my forearm or shoulder at
all times. As noted earlier, I did not need to worry about
Trish or Kristanna, of course, since they were both certified
divers with a plethora of experience. My only priority during
this expedition was Pamela's safety. She made good on her
promise, too. Not only did Pamela keep her right arm curled
around my left for 90 percent of the dive, but her hand was
clamped all nice and tight onto mine as well.

Pamela and I were leisurely floating in the shallow depths,
watching Trish and Kristanna about 30 feet away from us, as
they got up-close and personal with a school of triggerfish.
Several of them were feeding on large zooplankton and algae.
Trish snapped photographs of them with an underwater camera.

As Pamela and I hovered above a large formation of rocks,
I noticed a colorful, six-inch crustacean otherwise known as
the praying mantis shrimp. The creature, brought to a sudden
halt by our unwelcome intrusion, raised its green thorax and
blue head, wiggled orange antennae and independently big,
round lavender eyes in our direction. After bobbing
nervously a time or two, the regal animal whirled about and
with a fluttering skirt of red and blue was off, quickly
disappearing into the rock-lined burrow below.

One occasion which I will definitely never forget for the
rest of my life was when a very large group of cow-nose rays
literally appeared out of nowhere and headed straight for
Trish and Kristanna. They looked like a huge squadron of
alien spaceships descending toward the two ladies from parts
unknown. These docile stingrays went right through and past
Trish and Kristanna as they looked on in sheer astonishment.
Then, just as quickly, the cow-nose rays disappeared. It was
quite a memorable experience, but much too short-lived.

It was at this point in time when I sensed a large shadow
over the top of my shoulder. I turned and was delighted to
find a juvenile whale shark, probably 15 feet or so in length,
innocently gazing at the little bubble-blowing creatures who
were visiting its home from the surface. When an excited
Kristanna got her first glimpse of the shark, she quickly
motioned for Trish to turn and look at it as well.

The three of us felt absolutely no threat from the little
giant, as whale sharks were known to be quite passive toward
humans. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Pamela.

Once the shark slowly swam over top of us, Pamela looked
up and noticed it for the first time, and promptly went into
a panicked frenzy, violently tugging at my arm and screaming
at me through her regulator. She was scared beyond any and
all reason, and truly, had every right to be. For all Pamela
knew, the shark, which was three times her length, could have
been a great white with an empty spot in its stomach.

Pamela was still frantic, almost to the point of crying,
when I latched onto her shoulders with both hands and stared
into her eyes. I did my best to calm her fears through both
my expression and silent, unspoken words such as _it's okay_,
_it's harmless_ and _settle down_.

It took some doing, but I was finally able to get through
to Pamela. It also helped that the shark harmlessly floated
away and eventually vanished into the great distance. The
tears on Pamela's face, however, combined with the fact that
she appeared to be hyperventilating, indicated to me that it
was time to get her out of the water as quickly as possible.

When I pointed toward the surface, Pamela offered me no
resistance whatsoever as I held onto her with both hands and
began the ascent. Relieved once we had surfaced, Pamela spit
out her regulator and ripped off her mask only to be cruelly
pummeled across the face by a heavy wave. Disoriented, she
choked on the seawater and slipped back below the surface as
if an unseen force had pulled her down. Witnessing this
happen, before my very eyes, was the single most frightening
moment of my entire life. I had to act fast.

Pamela was frantically kicking her legs, her arms flailing,
all the while being slowly pulled into the depths by the mild
current. Without a mask or regulator, Pamela only had a
couple of seconds before something catastrophic would occur.

With all of my equipment still on, I quickly went after
and retrieved Pamela. I jammed an emergency air source into
her mouth and activated it, then pulled her to the surface of
the water with me yet again. Now holding onto her for dear
life and making sure her head stayed above water, I escorted
Pamela over to the boat. Somehow having already lost the
backup air source, Pamela choked and gasped for breath. I
made her climb the ladder first, and quickly joined her on
the boat. Pamela promptly fell to her hands and knees before
me, coughing like crazy, the water still in her lungs.

I should also point out that, at this particular moment in
time, I was extremely angry at myself. How could I have
allowed Pamela to be in such grave danger? It was my job to
protect and shield her from any jeopardy. Undoubtedly, I
had failed in that regard. I was very mad about that.

Luckily, Pamela's extreme coughing and choking fit finally
seemed to taper off. I reached down and helped remove the
heavy, cumbersome oxygen tank from her back and shoulders,
hoping it would make her feel more comfortable and at ease.
I also dropped to one knee and smacked her back a few times,
wanting to get any excess water out of her lungs.

"What happened?" came Trish's voice from behind us, as
Pamela was still doubled over upon the deck of the boat.

I turned and saw both Trish and Kristanna still in the
water, their masks off, looking up at us.

"Dat shark vas harmless," Kristanna said to Pamela. "It
was a young vale shark. Vale sharks do not hurt humans."

"It could have been _Jaws_ for all Pamela knew," Trish
said to Kristanna, echoing my thoughts from earlier. "She
is not as well-versed in marine life as we are, remember."

"Are yew okay?" Kristanna asked Pamela, concerned.

Still somewhat short of breath, Pamela shook her head in
response and managed to say, "I... I... I almost drowned."

"Oh my God!" Trish exclaimed, paddling closer to the boat.

"Vat happened?" Kristanna gasped.

"A wave pulled me underwater after I took my mask off,"
Pamela added, her eyes bleary, as she glanced at Trish and
Kristanna. "I thought... I thought I was going to... die.
I don't know..." Pamela shook her head quite vigorously,
as if to clear the mental cobwebs. She coughed several
times in succession and then concluded, "Jeremy... Jeremy...
Jeremy saved... my life." She glanced back over her shoulder
at me, her face a wreck from the ordeal. "Th-Thank you..."

I... I did what?

It did not dawn on me until Pamela spoke those words that
indeed, I could have very well saved her life. In fact, I
did. The wave which smacked Pamela in the face packed quite
a wallop, and she had obviously been running out of breath
(and time) while struggling beneath the water's surface.

Despite that, I certainly did not feel like a hero. I was
still angry at myself because Pamela had been in such a
life-threatening situation in the first place. That was my
fault. I should have prepared her better for the possibility
of coming across a shark or a potentially dangerous creature.
I should have also warned her of the significance of keeping
all of her scuba equipment on until I said otherwise.

"The dive is over," I announced, my left hand resting upon
Pamela's shoulder. I patted her there several times and said,
"Settle down, dear... everything is done with. You're safe."
My voice turned more authoritative when I added, "You should
never take your mask or regulator off when first reaching the
surface after a dive until you look around."

"I have been taken under da vater by unexpected waves many
times ven I first come up," Kristanna chimed in. "Yew vant
to see da surroundings and be prepared for dem before taking
any of yewr equipment off. It be rule number one, ya."

"I... I'm sorry, Jeremy..." Pamela shrieked, still hunched
over upon her hands and knees. Then, she moved upright and
slid both of her arms around my neck and shoulders. The young
woman from Baltimore buried her face against my chest, still
visibly shuddering in fright from the proceedings, and began
to openly sob. Then, the full reality of the situation hit
me. It hit me like an absolute ton of bricks.

"Are yew going to be all right?" Kristanna asked Pamela.

She nodded her head, though her face never left my chest.
"I'll be okay. I... I just need... time." Pamela clutched me
even tighter to her and reiterated, "You... saved... my life,
Jeremy. You saved my life. Th-Thank you..."

Unsure of what to do and/or say next, I glanced over at
Trish and Kristanna. "Why don't you two go diving some more?
I'll stay up here, top-side, with Pamela."

"Are you sure?" Trish clarified. She appeared to be at a
loss for words, too. No one could blame her.

"Yes," I nodded. "You and Krissy go back down and enjoy
yourselves for another 30 to 45 minutes. Pamela will be fine
here with me. I promise you."

"Go," Pamela simply told them, her right arm extended,
with a single finger blindly pointed toward the water.

"Yew positive?" Kristanna murmured.

"Yes," I assured her.

Trish and Kristanna shrugged their shoulders at each other
before they both vanished into the watery depths a short time
later. I was not worried about them at all.

Meanwhile, I still had a very upset and rattled Pamela to
deal with. This particular woman, I was extremely worried
about. Pamela was crying much harder than before - letting
all of the emotions of the past few minutes pour out - and
had a vise-tight grip around me as well.

Now, I really was speechless. I did not have a clue what
to say. All I could do was embrace Pamela and hold her close
in return, and do my absolute best to comfort and console her
in what was obviously a time of great need. I was prepared
to stay here and continue holding Pamela for the remainder of
the day - if not all of eternity - if need be.

This should be tagged "dark fantasy" so I would have not read it, reading about Jeremy getting turned on by Amy saying she is going to sell Lindsey to her 5 big black boyfriends as a sex slave definitely turned me against Jeremy. Especially considering after Kristanna practically begs him to step in and help Lindsey, the first thing he does is leave her all alone on the island with Camille and Amy, both people who's only goal is to destroy and ruin Lindsey. So now I consider Jeremy a sadistic self centered ass who deserves to be depressed and living all alone on the island with NOBODY. I hope all the girls find out about his sick voyeur room and demand to leave early. Would serve the self obsessed fuck right. Maybe even be the push he needs to complete his suicide attempt and finish the task right.